


As long as I (don't) get a kiss

by cigarettesandalcohol



Category: Men's Football RPF
Genre: 5+1 Things, Fluff, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Kissing, M/M, Old Men In Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-08
Updated: 2020-02-08
Packaged: 2021-02-28 07:21:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22549993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cigarettesandalcohol/pseuds/cigarettesandalcohol
Summary: "The worst thing about Gary is that he would always kiss you after you scored."a. k. a. Five times Ole doesn't want the kiss (or at least says so) and one time he does.
Relationships: Gary Neville/Ole Gunnar Solskjær
Comments: 4
Kudos: 23





	As long as I (don't) get a kiss

1.

" _What the hell_?"

The sharp question spitting right in Neville's face caught him by surprise, especially when it was the soft Norwegian accent combined with a real Mancunian swagger. He's never heard Ole say anything like this, in fact, so far, they've hardly exchanged more than a few words and Gary wasn't really familiar with the new boy's voice and behavior and reactions. Has he made a mistake by kissing him? _Jesus, he didn't mean it_ \- he always did that to all the teammates, well, maybe except for the old guard (and Roy, obviously) - but he definitely didn't want to make Ole angry by any means - 

Ole wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, furrowing his eyebrows for a bit, but then, his face lightened up again. He scored his first goal, he had all the reasons in the world to be happy.

He didn't say anything to Gary after the game. And he wasn't avoiding him nor complaining about the kiss, he just shrugged it off, as it seemed. But Gary made an imaginary point to himself:

_Do not kiss Ole Gunnar Solskjaer again._

2.

Maybe there was just something magnetic in this northern boy, his looks or the way he picked up the right accent while living in Manchester, he just had this little something that made everyone love him - the fans, the gaffer, his teammates, the youngsters, and even the older guys from the team, _the big guys_ as Gary always thought of them, they all had a soft spot for Solskjaer. 

Gary knew he had more than that - it wasn't just a smile or a hug or pat on the shoulder, he didn't want to just say "Well done!" after a goal or a game well played; he never knew exactly what it was that he wanted to do. But surely, a hug and a pat on the back wouldn't be enough. It wasn't just affection or a friendship, it was different to what he felt towards his brother or Becks or Nicky, and he couldn't name it right. When Becks or Phil or Nicky, or anyone else from what he would call his group of friends, came into the dressing room, they would be all "Hey!" and "Nice game!" and "Well played, Gaz" and they would joke about whatever might be on their minds there and then. When Gary spotted Ole in the dressing room, he was always lost for words. There were no loud cheers and greetings and high-fives and playful smacks. His heart would skip a beat, maybe two, and he would exhale, thinking a simple " _Oh_ ". And when Ole's eyes met his and the Norwegian smiled, Gary's whole world just stopped - 

"What are you staring at, Gaz?" There would always be someone bringing him back from this dream state. And Neville shook off his momentary lapse of reason and carried on with his life as usual. Yeah, Neville, what are you staring at? Your teammate, _really_? He could imagine running his fingers through the short hair that seemed to somehow change color throughout the years - just to touch it and feel it and maybe bury his face in it later and kiss the top of Ole's head, feeling just pure happiness and inner warmth. 

He could imagine kissing him.

And not just in a celebration.

And so he did, half drunk and half asleep, while they were waiting for a cab to pick them up after the Christmas party. Ole wasn't really drunk, he never seemed to be - he was just tired, after all the hustle and bustle of the pre-Christmas atmosphere, and his head kept falling down, so close to Neville's shoulder.

"Ole?"

He sounds even drunker than he feels, and he would laugh if Ole's head wasn't resting on his shoulder by now. Ole mumbles something, making Gary's heart flutter and skip a beat, and then he rubs his face against Gary's shoulder and says something along the lines of " _Is he here already, Gary_?"

"Not yet," he assured the Norwegian, getting his hand on his head. "Good?"

He can't even form a proper sentence, not right now, not with all the bloody alcohol making his consciousness all foggy and hazed. He pulls Ole's head closer, so close that the light curls actually get in his face, and he places a kiss somewhere in the hair, gentle and careful, but Ole feels it and mumbles something more, something too unclear for Gary to understand. _Jesus,_ he thinks _, they must look insane, two drunk guys just snogging here on this fucking bench, falling asleep._

But when Ole turned his head, he kissed him again, this time on the cheek.

" _Gary_ \- " Ole laughed, pulling away to escape more affection from the clingy Mancunian.

 _Oh well._ It was worth it.

3.

"Welcome back to Manchester!" Ar first, Gary wants to shake his hand but emotions win over him and he hugs his old friend, holding him in a tight embrace for a bit too long. "Jesus, it's been some time." They haven't seen each other for a while, that was true, though they still stayed in touch. But actually being with each other was different. There was no heartache now. 

Ole hasn't changed a bit. His hair was a bit greyish now, but - he just looked good. He always did. Not in the same way as Becks, but still there was something - Gary stopped himself before he would go too far. He'd spent so much time thinking about his own teammates. 

"I'm so happy for you," he said, finally releasing the Norwegian from the hug.

"Thanks, Gary. It's just - I still cannot believe it."

Pure happiness in his eyes was giving Gary so much hope after the last weeks of ongoing stress and disappointment from the club. Ole Gunnar was back. And it was almost as if he's never left. 

His eyes were probably too obviously fixed on Ole's lips, or maybe he was even drooling, who knows; Ole just pulled away, a bit twitchy and nervous. "Don't even think about it."

"What?"

"I know this look."

Gary sneered, faking a bit of an annoyance, and then ruffled Ole's hair a bit, as if they've never parted ways, as if they were still twenty-two, with nothing to worry about, with nothing to care for.

" _You haven't changed at all_ ," Gary mumbles, more to himself than to Ole.

4.

"Ole Gunnar - "

Solskjaer was already smirking as Gary started the interview. He couldn't stop that proud smile, there was just no way he was keeping a poker face tonight, after _this_ performance.

" - I have three very quick questions for you."

"Alright." Ole was buzzing, Gary could tell that. He always radiated unbelievably positive energy, but tonight was special in every aspect. Nev himself hasn't felt like this since he himself used to play for United. 

There was something in the air - the atmosphere, the moment, the power of the comeback victory - and Ole's eyes seemed glassy and maybe a bit teary, he surely was emotional, and Gary could feel it, especially when there was so little space between them.

And Ole laughed at his stupid remarks and suggestions of being appointed the permanent manager (laughed and _not addressed_ them), and his eyes were shining, just like back in the old days when they played. Gary could just drown in them - or more likely - he could just pull Ole into a bear hug and not let him go for days. He could do that.

It's all in his mind already throughout the interview and he just waits for the opportunity. Ole's the star of tonight, that's obvious, although he's still a bit blushing and he's not used to giving interviews in this emotional state.

"They absolutely love you, don't they?" Neville asked, hoping his eyes are not shaped like hearts by now. They love you - and I love you.

Ole just shrugged, innocent and not affected by the stardom and moment in the spotlight. "I don't know - "

 _Could he even be more endearing_? Gary doubted that. He finished the interview with eyes glued to Ole's lips, even as he said "Well done" and laid his hand familiarly on Ole's shoulder.

Ole chuckled when he pulled him in an embrace. 

Yeah, Ole. A kiss would be better. 

Gary felt almost lightheaded. This night, this moment, the fact that the two of them were there, practically together, to witness yet another great night of Man United history - 

He held Ole's neck for a bit too long.

"Hey, as long as I don't get a kiss - "

It was a moment of madness and Gary knew it, a silly remark, just poking fun at him and his habit of kissing people when happy, but it also felt almost like an invitation - because tonight, anything is possible. He chuckled, grabbing Ole's head again and trying to get him closer - just for the fun, just for the innocent fun that they, like two old friends, can share -

\- and Solskjaer pulled away, laughing - 

Escaping him once again.

5.

"What about that sad face?"

Ole shrugged, smiling with just his lips. "Well, you know the management, Gary - "

"Ouch."

"No, it's not meant - _sorry_." The Norwegian player-turned-manager shook his head. Gary knew his words weren't probably meant as a dig at his own disastrous career as a football manager. 

"It's tough, huh?"

"Yeah." Ole's eyes - Gary knew them, he knew the twinkle and sparkle in them - seemed cold and empty now. No surprise, after yet another disastrous performance of the team. It was hurting Gary. "I thought - Jesus, it's gonna sound so stupid - I thought we could make it today. The attitude seemed right."

"Sometimes it's just not enough."

"I know," Ole said quickly as if to defend himself. He sighed, blinking fast, and then looked at Gary with nothing but an apology in his eyes.

"It's not your fault, Ole." Gary reached out and placed his hand on the Norwegian's shoulder. Did Sir Alex also have these doubts and moments of weakness? That was something Gary couldn't quite picture. He himself felt terrible after the losses at Valencia, and he knew how easy it was to say " _Just move on, what else can you do_?" and how hard it was to actually do so. 

It might have been the poor lighting, or maybe just the long day that Ole had to endure, but the wrinkles around his eyes seemed deeper and his whole face was haggard. He looked like a man in desperate need of a break. "What about dinner and some wine?"

Ole shook his head reluctantly. "No, Gary, it's not a good idea."

"You can't be alone now."

"I need to think and focus on the next week - "

"You can't drain yourself like that. You're growing old in front of my eyes. I won't watch you fade away like that."

"I'll probably just go home and call Silje - "

Gary flinched upon hearing Ole's wife's name and he immediately thought back to himself - _what the fuck did you think_? He's gonna call his wife. It must be hard enough for him to be living alone now, and calling back home to Norway is probably the only bright thing about his day now.

"Can I go with you?" It sounds almost desperate, which is the last thing Gary would wish to be, though he can't help it. He wants to be with Ole. He wants to keep him company. There's nothing more to that. He wants to make sure his old friend is alright. Is it so hard to understand?

Ole's lips curled into a shy smile. "You're obnoxious, you know that?" 

"And you're stubborn. What about that? Come on, let's go."

Ole shrugged, giving up.

Gary talked like never before - he blabbered about anything that came to his mind, just to keep his own and Ole's focus away from the terrible game. It was still all about football, but they talked like old friends, not like a TV pundit and a manager. Not much has actually changed since they both retired, there were just a bit more wrinkles on their faces and that was about it. They sat back on the couch in Ole's living room, with the TV turned on that neither of them was paying attention to, and they were chatting about everything and nothing at the same time. Gary watched Ole's pale face in the light of the flickering TV.

"Don't stare," Ole laughed without even looking at him. He must have felt the intense stare somehow - 

It would sound childish, coming from anyone else - but Ole had a legitimate reason to say so. 

"How could I not?"

His own voice sounded weird even to _him_ \- and Ole turned his head immediately.

_What did you say?_

He didn't ask aloud though.

" _Ole_ ," Gary spoke, reaching for Ole's head. Or hair. He couldn't decide. He just wanted a bit of him - just to hold him for a while. As a friend. Or maybe something more.

His fingers ran through Ole's hair - that was getting grey so fast. _Baby-faced assassin_ , Gary thought. _Yeah_. _Once upon a time_...

The curls of Ole's hair felt soft. At least something hasn't changed.

"I can't do this, Gary."

" _Can't_ or _don't_ want to?"

"I can't - " Ole stopped himself before Gary could say anything. "Gary, it's just - it's stupid - "

"Why?"

"You don't need to do this just to cheer me up."

"I've wanted to do this for years now."

Solksjaer shook his head. No, no, Gary, that doesn't matter - Neville could almost hear that soft voice.

"Stop it, Gary."

"What?"

"This whole - nonsense."

"You're all anxious."

"Well?"

"You shouldn't torture yourself like that when the team doesn't perform. You're not Roy."

Ole actually laughed at that. " _Oh, Gary_."

That was when their eyes finally met. Finally - after all the stupid bickering and arguments - 

Something inside Gary fell apart at that moment, and he couldn't hide his feelings anymore. "You deserve the happiness of the whole world."

"I know where this is going - "

"No, no, you don't. I've never said it seriously enough and with the emotion that is needed - _I love you_."

"Don't say that - "

"I really do."

" _You can't say that_ \- "

"You won't say anything else to me?" Gary's fingers were still massaging Ole's scalp.

"It's not the right place and time - "

"It never is. For us. For me and you. Don't you know? All those years - all those moments that were ruined by something - "

"We're both married."

"I'm not asking you to get divorced."

Ole's eyes were curious, scanning and analyzing him. "How can you joke about that?"

"I can't do much more."

"You're - " 

" _What_?" Gary was hanging on every word that Ole said. He felt tense, all the anxious expectations making his heart pound like crazy. Ole's blue eyes looked frightened as if he couldn't dare to say what he meant to. 

"You don't know what you do to me."

"Is it good at least?"

Ole smiled, his eyes already wandered around the room with the desperate intention to find something to focus on. "If I say yes, will you leave me alone?"

"You can't run away from me forever."

"I'm not running away. I'm getting my courage up."

"Courage for what?"

Ole looked back at him. There was everything in his blue shining eyes, all the reasons why Gary fell in love with him in the first place, and all the promise, hope, and love that Gary's ever hoped to see. "For a kiss."

Gary watched him, holding his breath, fingers still caressing the back of Ole's head. Should he make the move now? He felt like it wouldn't be right. Not now. Not when Ole confessed to this. Not when it was all like that. But Ole himself put some pressure on him, reached out to touch his shoulder and then, pull him closer, slowly at first, until he finally leaned in for that one kiss.

A kiss - how simple was that! Gary closed his eyes, feeling the touch of their kiss with every cell of his body; his lips felt sensitive and warm, and desperately in need for another kiss when Solskjaer pulled away.

"Sorry," Ole mumbled, quickly moving away and nervously touching the pillow on the couch as if he didn't know what to do with his hands now.

Gary sat there, frozen in his place, lips still burning. _What has just happened_?

"Why - why _sorry_?" Gary bit his lip, hoping to keep the memory of the kiss forever to cherish it. 

"We're old for this, Gary." Ole wasn't even looking at him; he seemed to be preoccupied with the wallpaper pattern.

"It's just about _the mind_ , Ole. Nothing needs to change between us. Nothing will change for _you_." He touched Ole's cheek, forcing him to turn his head. "Look at me. What are you afraid of?"

The blue eyes were burning a hole in his already aching heart.

"You don't need to do anything. I wouldn't dare to ask anything of you - just one thing. Let me stay here. Let me be with you and let me love you. Is it hard to understand?"

He watched Ole's parted lips, feeling the knot in his stomach, and then leaned in and kissed the Norwegian again.

6.

Ole woke up first. The familiar white painted wall in front of his eyes was a comforting thing to see first in the morning - he still didn't really feel at home in Manchester, but at least with this exact wallpaper, he knew he was in his bed, with his now exciting life, seizing the opportunities he saw. Yes, he was back in Manchester, far away from home, far away from his family.

He rolled onto his back, feeling unusually happy and full of life. It would normally take him some time to get fully awake in the morning, but today that didn't seem to be a problem. He was in his comfortable loose pajamas and it was so warm under the blanket - especially with Gary next to him -

Gary. He rolled onto his side to face the Mancunian who was still asleep, mouth hanging open, not far from snoring. He still somewhat looked the same as when he was twenty. There just was something pure and unspoiled about Gary that not many other people had. A certain level of innocence - although Ole couldn't find out why. Gary was far from innocent in any possible explanation, he knew life, he's experienced it - but he still kept the optimistic youthful outlook on the world - and it made Ole smile.

It also made him shift closer to Gary's body. They just shared a bed - nothing else happed. They cuddled - but nothing else. They kissed occasionally last night, yeah - but nothing more. Maybe - maybe they were just really good friends and that was all. 

Ole really couldn't be bothered anymore with trying to find the right fitting word.

He kissed the late sleeper. 


End file.
